Between Bets and Refrigerators
by IWantYouInMyLife
Summary: Peter is confused.


**Author's Note: This whole thing has been sitting, forgotten, for way too long. It deserves to see the light. So, here it is. I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this entire thing.**

* * *

Peter is confused.

"How come whenever you guys need to split up it's always you and Steve leading, and the team always just... follow you or him," he finally asked Tony, walking inside their massive kitchen and jumping up to sit on top of the table. It had only been his third mission fighting with the team, but there had to be more to it than coincidence. "And it's always the same people who go with him or you."

"That's just a really old bet that has never been settled," Sam explained with a shrug before adding with a smirk. "Cap's side it's way better though, so think carefully before choosing."

"You do remember that you guys are losing, right?" Natasha said, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't start," Steve warned, raising a hand. "That day with the lizard-"

"Totally counts!" Tony cried out, taking off his jacket and just throwing it by Peter's side, on top of the table, without care.

"No, it doesn't," Clint said, sitting on a stool and crossing his arms in front of his body. "Thor hit it first."

"So? The last hit was mine — that's what counts."

"Shut up, man," Sam rolled his eyes, opening the fridge and snatching a beer from within it. "Take your defeat like a man."

"You take my dic-"

"Kid in the room!" The Captain — that was definitely his Captain voice — interrupted loudly.

"Wait, how does that work exactly?" Peter asked. "You guys keep a score?"

"Obviously," Tony said, already going straight for the coffee machine. "Barnes is a dirty cheater — can't risk it."

"Please," the man in question rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be such a fucking baby just 'cause I'm the king of the table."

Instead of answering his original question, the whole conversation was just adding more confusion to the entire situation. "Table?"

"Poker," Wanda grumbled, stepping in between Clint's legs and leaning her back against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her middle, amusement shining in his eyes. "Baby, you know what they say-"

"Shut up," she cut, glaring at Peter as though he was the one guilty for whatever it was that was upsetting her.

"Hey, don't kill the kid. It's not his fault you are a fucking cheater, too. Maybe Cap is a bad influence on his team," Tony defended, smirking when Natasha agreed.

"Yeah, Steve, maybe that serum changed more than just that cute physique."

"Cute wouldn't be exactly the word I'd use," Sam teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Again, kid in the room," Steve said, somewhat tiredly. "Please pretend to be functional adults."

"If he is to be a part of the team, he might as well have a crash course," Pietro pointed out, settling his water bottle on the table and jumping to sit next to Clint and his sister on another stool. His hand went straight to Clint's knees.

It was still somewhat unsettling for Peter to see how casual they all were when the doors of the elevator closed and they were at home, alone. As soon as the weight from constant perusal stopped being a question, they all visibly relaxed into the playful family Peter was beginning to fondly consider his own.

"Sir, there's-," Jarvis' voice rang around the room just as a huge portal appeared in the middle of the kitchen, making Peter jump backward in surprise and raise his arms to defend himself.

The portal gave sight into a long library for a few seconds before a man walked out of it, a long cape flowing behind him.

Peter was unsure whether to attack or not for a few seconds, seeing as the man focused on him straight away and seemed content in analyzing his stance, as though Peter was a zoo animal. However, before he could properly decide, Tony's voice echoed:

"Jarvis, a little too late there, mate," he said, strangely close to pouting.

"I'm sorry, sir. It seems that my sensors are still unable to predict the creation of the portal with enough anticipation," the A.I responded evenly.

"Are you still persisting on this ridiculous game?" The man asked, finally sliding his eyes from Peter to Tony.

"Have you met me?" Was the answer.

"Unfortunately," he deadpanned, waking towards Tony, while discretely checking him over — as if searching for something.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who noticed that.

"I'm fine, stop being such a mother-hen," Tony said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. However, a fond smile graced his lips, soft and warm in a way Peter had yet to see in the engineer's face. "Come here."

When the man began to slide closer to Tony, Peter couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Who are you?" He asked, the words flowing from his lips before he could come up with a more polite way to say it.

"Dr. Strange."

"Strange-o"

"Weirdo."

"Cap, but this one flies."

"Clothes' stealer."

Strange, Clint, Bucky, Sam, and Tony all answered at the same time.

Several questions popped into his head at once, almost dizzyingly in their rapidness. However, before Peter could decide if he should introduce himself or not, the stranger — Dr, Strange — beat him to the punch, flashing Tony with the most incredulous expression possible.

"Who would want to steal your grease-stained rock bands t-shirts?" He asked.

"Well, for your information, one, on e-Bay-"

"I can't believe it," Bruce interrupted, his face unusually serious as he stared at the inside of the fridge as though it had betrayed him in the worst possible way known to mankind. It was a shame, though. Peter really wanted to hear the e-Bay story. "I cannot fucking believe someone ate my goddamn last piece of cake. Please, tell me this is a joke."

It was weird to be so invested in a cake, Peter thought to himself. And, driving the weirdness to even higher levels, all the Avengers took a careful step back, exchanging looks of caution behind Bruce's back. The only one who seemed undisturbed by the faint green hue on the doctor's face was Natasha, who carried on swinging her legs by her place perched on top of the table.

"That's not nice," she proclaimed sweetly, her face giving nothing away. "I did that for you."

"Oh, I know," Bruce responded, still staring at the inside of the fridge, his body dead still. Suddenly, his grip on the door tightened, and the metal gave away, the end becoming a tangled ball of aluminum.

"Damn, Bruce, let go. That's our third one this month," Clint said, a look of frustration on his face. "Pepper said she'll stop sending us new ones at some point."

"Perhaps someone shouldn't have eaten my damn cake then," he said, not even attempting to relax his hold.

"Bruce, be reasonable," Steve began, only to be interrupted by Tony's slap to the back of his head and Clint's furious glare.

"Reasonable? You want me to-"

"Bruce, babes, I'm sure Natasha will be delighted to make you more cake. Won't you, Nat?"

"I don't know," she said, smirking over the rim of her cup of coffee. "It is a quite complicated recipe. "

The fridge door came completely off the hinges in Bruce's hands, leaving its contents open to the room to see. Peter briefly noticed that a significant amount of space was occupied by several different kinds of beer, then wondered what kind of maniac would notice something like that when his spider senses were letting him know just how real the possibility of a Hulk situation was.

"Natasha!" Steve reproached, sending her a disapproving look as if she was the only guilty of destroying their electronic appliance.

"They really shouldn't let you all live together like this," The stranger mentioned. "It's a wonder you manage to be productive at all."

"Well, it's a good thing, then, that nobody asked for your opinion," Bruce rebutted, swinging around with the door still in his hold, which might have been the cause of some cutlery mishaps.

"Bruce! Honestly, just put the door down-"

"Pepper will-"

"Yeah, shut up, Strange-"

"Don't be such a bitch just cause you ain't been invited," Tony said, raising an eyebrow and stepping away from the man. "Much better than that hole you call home."

"The sanctum is a sa-"

"Oh, shut up. No one cares that it's some magical orgy hangout," Bucky rolled his eyes. "It's full of fucking dust, that's what it is."

"But really, though, Bruce, the fridge was kinda new, bro. Not cool."

"It does seem like a big reaction," Peter dared to whisper, only to be faced with the stares of every single person on the room, in wildly diverse stances varying from amusement to surprise.

"Bruce gets particular about cake," Sam explained with a shrug.

"Natasha's cake," he defended himself. "Which reminds me that I still don't know who ate my slice."

"Yeah, it's a real wonder that. Really, an impossible mystery to resolve. Truly unresolvable," Clint said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and zeroing on Thor with precision.

"Me? My friend, you must be mistaken-"

"Save it, we've all heard this story before."

"Yep. Like, literally, last week, man," Sam pointed out.

"Sir, Dr. Foster and Taser Chick are on the elevator," JARVIS informed, over their argument.

"Taser Chick?" Peter asked the room at large.

"Great, let them see the fall of their man," Clint joked, hiding his smile in the crook of Wanda's neck.

"J, maybe have 'em come up later-" Tony tried to reason, but Sam jumped on his back, covering his mouth with his large hands.

"What? No, let 'em come now; I wanna see this," he pleased, face pointing to where Bruce was arguing with Thor about the cake.

Before a decision could be reached, the elevator's door opened, and two women stepped out of it. Peter knew Dr. Foster, but the Taser Chick was new.

"What's up, losers," she greeted, a large smile on her face. Her eyes zeroed on him. "And you must be the baby spider."

"Spider-Man," he corrected, although he wasn't sure how much confidence he was projecting as he sat back down on top of the table with half of his suit on. Probably close to none.

"Darcy Lewis. Call me Darcy," she introduced herself, before asking. "What's happening over there?"

He followed her line of vision until he saw Bruce gesturing wildly at Thor, holding the broken handle of their refrigerator in his hands. The God, for his part, took a step back each time Bruce waved his hands close to his face. Meanwhile, everybody else watched them with careful consideration, hushed tones as they spoke to each other. Peter saw some money being passed from Tony's hand to Sam.

"Hmm… Thor ate Bruce's cake?" Peter tried to explain, but it came out sounding more like a question than an explanation. When he turned back to face Darcy, though, Dr. Foster was standing next to her, and neither women seemed surprised or confused by the information.

Dr. Foster groaned. "Not this again," she said.

Darcy, though, sniggered. She actually looked amused at the scene. "Think I'm too late for the bet?" Was her only question. To which she didn't even wait for a response, instead, bouncing towards the others, already fishing for something from her back pocket.

"This is… a frequent thing?" Peter asked the scientist standing in front of him, hoping she would be more forthcoming with the information than the others.

"More frequent than should be acceptable, yes," she confirmed, with a roll of eyes. Despite her words, however, Dr. Foster had a tiny smile hanging on her lips, amusement painted on her features. "Sometimes I wonder how anyone gets any work done around here."

As soon as she spoke the last word, almost like a choreographed dance, Bruce went for the first punch, his skin more green than white at that point as he aimed for the Asgardian's surprised face.

" _Dammit_ , Bruce!" Tony scream of protest was almost drowned by Sam's, Clint's and Darcy's collective cheers. "Couldn't you have waited two more minutes?"

Peter was still confused.

* * *

 **AN2: This story now has a sequel! Go read it - it's called "Between Dates and Cupcakes"**


End file.
